THE LESSONS
by hurricanelane
Summary: My name is Isabella and this is my story of lessons. Lessons learned, lessons failed, lessons in love, lessons in friendship, lessons in betrayal in short a whole bunch of lessons of life. It's not always an easy story, this story of mine, but whose story ever is? I just had to share my lessons and my story, before I end it.
1. Chapter 1

**My first attempt at a story here – please give me feedback - I'll appreciate any and all - either negative or positive! I'm trying to learn and grow! I've proofed myself - no pre-readers or BETA's yet. Anyone wanna volunteer? If so - send me a message!**

**Disclaimer – I own nothing relating to the works of the "Queen" of Twilight, Stephenie Meyer. I'm just putting her characters in this story, because I LOVE them! I give all credit to her for her brilliance in creating these characters. I give credit to the creators of any other song, movie, or book I may reference. But the story is mine - any similarity to any other story that may be out there somewhere is not intended!**

**There will be mature language, ADULT situations and LEMONS. So, mature readers only please!**

_My name is Isabella and this is my story of lessons. Lessons learned, lessons failed, lessons in love, lessons in friendship, lessons in betrayal in short a whole bunch of lessons of life. It's not an easy story, this story of mine, but whose story ever is? My story is probably like yours or my neighbor or best friend, I mean, everyone has one, right? Whether it is happy or sad, laughter inducing or reducing one to tears, a story is a story. I just had to tell someone my story, before I end it._

**THE LESSONS **

**Chapter 1**

**The First Lesson = Sounds **

There are plenty of things I can't remember about my young childhood days but there is plenty that I do. My first bike riding lesson, my first piano lesson, and my first lesson on how to work the new microwave – I remember all those lessons vaguely. The lessons I recall vividly aren't all that pretty. I remember good times, but mostly just the sounds of all the ugliness surrounding me.

One sound that rings clear in my memory were of raised voices in heated arguments. Screaming and hollering so loud that even being a whole floor away surrounded by insulation filled sheet rock and closed doors couldn't muffle the sound. Oh my, the horrid screaming matches that took place in our "perfect" home were cringe-worthy. Crazy thing, they were usually over nothing – even my young five year old mind could figure that out. Something as simple as the ashtray not being wiped clean to his liking after it was emptied out or the dress he bought her to wear to one of his work functions didn't look as good on her as it did on the mannequin would start an all-out free for all of epic proportions.

It was the silence I hated the most at the time though. The silence after those arguments was actually extremely loud and deafening. To this day, being given the silent treatment gives me cold sweats and a sick feeling in my stomach. I'd rather have someone scream at me than have the silence.

Why would I hate the silence? The silence always led to something bad – really, really bad, that's why. Muted thumps of something hitting the wall, the whisper of fabric being torn, muffled cries for help and the sound of flesh hitting flesh in anger is what silence led to.

The sound of slamming doors and the car starting in the garage would signal the end of the storm. The sound of my bedroom door opening and gentle hands picking me up and cradling me to her would be the sound of the comfort she needed. The sound of a birds chirping, squeaky chains of a rusty swing set, dry skin screeching against a metal slide and the crinkling sound of a sleeve of crackers being opened to feed the ducks in the pond was the escape, for just a short time, that she required.

_**LESSON LEARNED: I FUCKING HATE DUCKS.**_

**So...whatcha think? I know it's a little heavy - it won't always be that way - we meet someone warm in our next chapter. I plan to update once a week (I have a RL job and family and little league baseball season is getting geared up) if time permits perhaps twice. Leave me some love or some hate - just leave me something!**


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note:

I'm back for the next round. Thanks to those of you who visited and read the first chapter – I really REALLY appreciate it! There's a lot of back story and details in the first few chapters. Please hang in there with me if you can! Again, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I want to grow and learn. No Beta or pre-reader or anyone else to bounce off the ideas jumbled in my head. Wanna help? Send me a message if you do!

**Disclaimer – I own nothing relating to the works of the "Queen" of Twilight, Stephenie Meyer. I'm just putting her characters in this story, because I LOVE them!**

**I don't own anyone else's work – but I do own these thoughts in my head that I'm putting down for you to read.**

THE LESSONS – CHAPTER 2

The Second Lesson = Understanding

"Seriously, Mom?! You've lost your mind! I can't believe you are doing this! What is wrong with you?!" I cry out in anger and despair. "I am not going anywhere with you, Renee, I am NOT moving!" I scream at her.

How could she do this? How? My father, Charlie, doesn't deserve this, he LOVES her, he loves our family and this will destroy him! How could she do this after all he has done for her, for us?! I try to understand my mother, but I can't, I don't. I try to put myself in her place and see what kind of sense I can make out of the mess she is creating.

Renee's first husband, Caius, was an evil bastard who is rotting away in prison. She married him when she got pregnant at 17 with my older, twin brothers, James and Jasper. When she was 8 months pregnant, he held her at gunpoint while robbing the convenience store her parents owned. As he fled the scene, he killed my grandparents and proceeded to shove my very pregnant mother out of the speeding get-away car. She gave birth to my brothers prematurely, Caius was arrested, eventually sentenced to life in prison and Renee was granted a rather quick divorce. She fell quickly into another disastrous relationship and on my brothers' first birthday, I was born.

Marcus, my sperm donor, had money and my mother had stars in her eyes. He was an executive with the convenience store chain that my grandparents owned a franchise of. Renee and Marcus met when he came out to take charge of finding another owner for my grandparents store and oversee the construction of a few others in that specific district. They were together for 5 years, married for 4. After the last horrid beating he gave her and turned his anger to James, who was only 6, she finally got the courage to divorce him. He put up no fight, apparently ready to be rid of her for his next victim, his secretary, and my mother's best friend, Heidi.

Mom took her sizeable divorce settlement, along with signed papers from him relinquishing his parental rights to me, and fled. She fled from Syracuse, New York, to the south, the Deep South. She always loathed the cold winters of Syracuse with the mountains of snow. She longed for the sun, the heat, and a slower pace of life to raise us in. It was here, in the small town of Foley, Alabama, that my mother met the next love of her life.

Charlie Swan, the Chief of Police of our new hometown, came into our lives in a blur of red and blue lights flashing and siren blaring as we were coming into town for the first time. Renee has somewhat of a lead foot and got pulled over no more than 5 minutes of crossing into the police jurisdiction line. She charmed the ticket out of Charlie's hand and stole his heart in the process. Today, 11 years later, she is ripping his heart out, my heart, killing our happy family.

"Oh, Isabella, stop being such a drama queen. Things don't always work out, you know that." Renee calmly said.

"No, I don't know that Momma. I know that you have to try to make things work but you are just giving up. Why, Momma? Why?" I finished in a whisper. I was losing it; I had to get out of here. I needed him. Now.

I run down the stairs, grab my purse off the foyer table and scramble out the front door as fast as I can. I fumble for the keys to my car, the car I received just days ago for my 16 birthday. I shove the keys into the ignition, start the car and drive away from the front of the house like I'm running from a mass murderer. Speeding down the driveway, lined on each side by hundred year old Live Oak Trees, massive moss covered branches sweeping down low to the ground and reaching far into the sky, and I pick up my cell and hit the first speed dial programmed in.

"Hell-o" drawled his deep, rich, sleepy voice.

"It's me…I have to… I need…it's awful…she's…." I gasp between each fragment.

"Whoa, sugar, slow down, what's the matter?" He questions, his voice worried.

"Meet me?" I plead.

"On my way." He need not even ask where.

I pull onto the gravel and red dirt road, drive a short distance to the clearing and stop. I sit there and wait, wait to hear the rumble of his truck, knowing that the sound will come soon. As I wait, I replay the last 20 minutes of my life over and sag towards the steering wheel and begin sobbing. I don't know how long I'm there crying, but suddenly I feel his strong arms lifting me, awkwardly, from the seat of my car. His sure hold tightens as he steps away from the car. He cradles me as he walks toward the bank of the creek and sits down, holding me in his lap. Rocking side to side, shushing me, telling me it will be ok. The tears finally subside, replaced with stuttering breaths and hiccups.

"Bella, baby girl, what's going on, you're scaring me?" He asks while placing his finger under my chin, gently raising it so he can look into my red rimmed, swollen eyes.

"She's leaving him, Renee I mean. She's leaving my dad and she's making me move away with her! She's taking me away from my daddy, my friends, YOU! She's crazy, she ruins everything. I don't understand! Why? Why is she doing this? Help….me…..un-un-unders-understand!" I sob, tears returning.

"Oh baby girl, shhh, shhh. I promise it'll be ok. I don't know why. I don't understand either. I don't know how, but it'll be ok. It'll work out. Shhhh, please stop crying." He pleads again.

I look up at him again, gazing into his eyes, seeing unshed tears in his, through the haze of the falling tears still welling up in mine. I won't leave him. I won't let her take me away from him. He is beautiful, he is comfortable, he is safe, he is strong, he is sturdy, he is warm, he is my sun. He is my everything.

"Jake." I whisper. Nothing.

"Jacob." I whisper louder. Still Nothing

"Jacob, please." I whisper louder still.

"I hear you baby girl." He whispers lightly back.

"Jacob, kiss me. Please, please kiss me. I want you, no; I need you to kiss me." I beg.

A groan rumbles his chest. His arms stiffen slightly around me. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly while turning me in his lap to face me. I tilt my head up and the breath catches in my throat as I see the tortured, yet longing look on his face.

"You won't kiss me, why? Why Jake? I don't understand!" I huff.

"Oh, Bella, I want to kiss you. You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you baby girl. I just don't think it's a good idea for me to kiss you now. Not when you are upset." He states quietly.

I look away, crestfallen, embarrassed and mumble to him, "I'm sorry, Jake. I shouldn't have…I mean, you're right, I think. Yeah, you're right. I understand."

LESSON LEARNED: I DON'T UNDERSTAND A DAMN THING.


End file.
